


Truth

by redbeard



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-28 13:25:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5092430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redbeard/pseuds/redbeard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baz and Simon visit the Grimm family for Christmas and get hit with a terrible curse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pretending

**Baz**

There’s power in words.  You don’t have to have magic to know that. The right words, in the right order, at the right time, can change a life. They can change the world. Word can reveal truths, but they can also conceal.

I’ve been using words to conceal things for most of my life. Pretending not to be queer. Pretending not to be a vampire. Pretending not to be in love with Simon Snow.

Thank Merlin I don’t have to pretend anymore.

In London, anyway. London is Snow and Bunce and takeaway curry. In London we keep fresh blood in the fridge and my boyfriend has wings and a tail and it’s ridiculous and we just roll with it. Snow is trying to teach me to just accept things and move on. He’s much better at it than I am.

“’Sup?”

My ridiculous boyfriend looks up from where he has been dozing on my lap.

“Hm?”

“You’re frowning.”

“Oh. It’s nothing, Snow. My father wants me to spend Christmas in Oxford.”

“Oh.” He sits up, but rests his head on my shoulder. “You should.”

“Don’t be absurd,” I tell him. “I’m not leaving you on your own. “

He shrugs.

“You should,” he says again.

“I’ll think about it.”

It isn’t until my Aunt Fiona emails me that I make up my mind.

_Basil, come for Christmas. Bring your terrible boyfriend with you if you can’t bear to leave him alone. We haven’t had a proper Christmas in three years and I’m coming especially to see you. Besides, Mordelia could do with some more of her big brother in her life. She’s a bigger rebel at nine than I was at nineteen. No idea where she gets it from, she’s not a Pitch. Anyway, come to bloody Christmas or I’ll spell you there myself._

“Do you think you can handle another Christmas with my family?” I ask Simon.

He grins.

“I can handle it. Can they?” His grin fades. “We’re going to have to pretend not to be together, aren’t we?”

“I’m sorry,” I tell him.

He shrugs.

“You can make it up to me when we get home.”

**Simon**

Baz’s family’s house in Oxford isn’t as huge as the one I last visited in Hampshire, but it’s just as creepy. Baz told me they sold the one in Hampshire to some Normals. It’s being made into a hotel or something. I feel really awkward, visiting them when I’d destroyed their last home, but Baz says it’s fine.

“They know it wasn’t your fault, Snow,” he tells me. “If anything they blame the Mage.”

“So it won’t be awkward?” I ask hopefully.

“Oh, it will be plenty awkward. You’re the guy I’m fucking. Father won’t like that being shoved in his face.”

I flinch a little. I don’t think he realises that when he’s being cruel to himself he can occasionally be cruel to me, too. He must have seen my face though, because he grabs my hand and squeezes it.

“Come on, Simon,” he mutters. “Let’s get this over with.”


	2. A Grimm Christmas Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner with the Grimms is every bit as awkward as Simon imagined it would be.

**Simon**

Dinner is just as ridiculously fancy as it was the last time I ate here.

Not here, I remind myself. Their other place. The one I destroyed when I sucked all the magic out of it.

I feel like my guilt must be showing on my face, but no one is making any sign of noticing.

"So, Simon," Baz's dad clears this throat. "How is university? Basil tells me you're studying political science."

"Um, fine, thanks, Mr Grimm." I mentally grope around for something interesting to say. "Baz has been a great help with my essays."

"Excellent," he says, sounding as if it were anything but.

Baz squeezes my leg gently under the table. He has very little on his plate and it surprises me for a moment. I'm so used to him eating dinner in front of Penny and me that I forgot he doesn't eat in company.

This isn't company, though. This is supposed to be his family.

"Father." Baz puts on his formal-conversation voice. "I was hoping for your input on something I've been working on in my economics class."

**Baz**

It was a mistake to come here.

Snow and my father have exhausted all avenues of conversation in two sentences and I have to resort to discussing my paper on the relative merits of the Pound and the Euro.

Two years ago I sat at a table just like this and watched Snow squirm. I thought him a boorish and uncultured oaf and felt embarrassed for my family as he bolted down his food like a wild animal.

What a difference two years makes.

I can almost feel his discomfort. He's nervous and restrained. My stepmother clearly has no idea how to make him feel at home but bless her, she's trying. My father seems relieved to have a reason to ignore Snow as he drones on about the importance of maintaining a British currency.

Two years ago I saw Snow through my family's eyes. Now I'm watching them through his.

"Basil," Mordelia interrupts, "why aren't you eating anything?"

For a moment, there is silence. Mordelia doesn't know. Of _course_ she doesn't know. No one in this family can have a straightforward conversation about anything.

I take a breath and put on my best bored face.

"I'm not hungry, Mordelia," I tell her in the tone I reserve for grave breaches of ettiquette.

"But why?" she continues, ignoring me. "It must have taken you hours to drive here. Simon is eating."

"Mordelia!" admonishes my stepmother. "Basil's appetite is none of your concern."

She exchanges the briefest of glances with my father, who looks displeased. I can practically feel Simon fidgeting nervously beside me.

“Simon,” says my stepmother brightly. “I understand you live in London, too?”

“Y-yes, Mrs Grimm,” he stammers. “I live with my friend, Penny Bunce. I – I think you met her.”

“Lovely.” Daphne is clearly pleased to be back in safe territory. “I take it you see a lot of Basil then?”

So much for safe territory.

Snow starts bouncing his knee under the table.

“Yes, I see – we see Baz most – I mean, yes, quite a lot.”

“It’s so nice that the two of you became friends,” she beams.

Simon chokes on his water.

It is a relief when dinner is over.


	3. An Interview in the Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basil's Father has some concerns.

**Baz**

If I’d imagined I might have some time with Simon after dinner, I imagined wrong. We've no sooner reached my room than Vera knocks on the door.

“Your father asked to see you, in the library,” she says, eyeing Simon warily. I don’t know why – he looks perfectly respectable. I dressed him myself.

“Please tell him I’ll be there in a minute,” I tell her.

“I’m sorry,” I sigh.

Snow shrugs.

“Go do your family thing. I’ll keep.” He grins. “It’ll give me some time to think of wicked things to do to you.”

I raise one eyebrow at him.

“Don’t burn the house down,” I tell him, and close the door.

My father looks like a comic book villain in a wingback chair and pinstriped suit. I settle into the chair opposite him and he pours me a brandy.

“Father?”

“Basilton.” He clears his throat. “I wanted to ask how you’re managing. In London.”

“You asked me at dinner,” I said. “London is fine.”

He looks uncomfortable.

“Are you able to manage – your condition?”

I put on my best bored face.

“It isn’t a problem, Father. I have access to everything I need.”

He looks concerned. Father knows there’s nowhere to hunt in London.

“Do you – do you make many trips out to Hampstead Heath, then?”

“I don’t need to, Father. I can buy whatever I need in town.”

“You can buy –”

“Yes. From butcher shops. Snow put me on to it.”

 He fleetingly looks relieved, and then concerned again.

“You told Snow? I’m not sure that was wise, Basil.”

“He worked it out for himself.” I pick a stray thread from my trousers. “We shared a room for eight years, remember.”

“Are you sure he can be trusted?”

“Completely.”

“I could arrange for him to be spelled –”

“No!” For a moment I forget to sound bored. “No, thank you. It’s not necessary.”

Father frowns.

“I’m concerned at how close you’ve become to Snow,” he says. “Isn’t he a Normal, now? You’re spending too much time outside of the magickal community. I don’t even remember the last time I saw you at the Club.”

“It’s fine, Father,” I begin, but he interrupts me.

“Basil, I want you to come back to Oxford. You can transfer your studies here. Your Mother and I worry about you.”

“Thank you, Father.” I say it sincerely, because I mean it. “But I’m fine. I enjoy living in London. There’s really no need to worry.”

“Just think about it.”

I nod, drain my glass, and stand up.

“I’ll think about it. Good night, Father.”

“Good night, Basil. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Father.”

I’m not going to think about it. I belong to London now, and to Snow.


	4. The Night Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz and Simon finally get some alone time.

**Simon**

I don't think I've ever met anyone who sends their servant to fetch their son for a chat, but Baz seems to think it's perfectly normal. His room here is less Bella Lugosi and more Posh Hotel, but it still doesn't feel like it's his. The quilt cover is a sort of royal blue and the furniture is incredibly fancy, with gold bits. I think about his room in London. It's posh, like this, and tastefully decorated, like this. The furniture is all matching and made of some sort of dark wood. The walls are a deep greyish-green with a neat white trim. His bed is always immaculately made (well, it's _usually_ immaculately made) (before I've got to it, anyway). He insists on piling all these little cushions on it, so it looks like something out of a furniture store. The duvet is a greenish-black, the same colour as the suit he wore, the night everything changed.

I love Baz in that suit.

There's a soft knock on the door, and I open it to find a full tray of food.

**Baz**

Snow is sitting perfectly still, staring at the food my stepmother has sent up. I don't think he even notices me come in.

"Were you planning to leave me any?"

He jumps, and grins a little guiltily at me.

"I haven't touched it!"

I sit on the sofa, opposite him, and hand him a fork. He gives me a look I can't quite read, and takes it. We eat in silence.

"Do you need to hunt?"

I shake my head, and indicate the bags stacked neatly at the foot of the bed.

"I came prepared."

He gives me the smallest of smiles, and that look again. I don't like that I can't read him. I can always read him. I give him a raised eyebrow.

"Spit it out, Snow."

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?" I demand. I know what.

"How do you _pretend_ all the time? They're your family! They know you're a vampire! Why can't you just say it!"

"They don't -"

"And what about us? Are we going to pretend, forever, that we're just friends? Have you even told them that you're gay?"

"Simon -"

"They're your family, Baz! Surely they would come around!" 

"Shut _up_ , Snow!" I snap at him. He shuts up.

"Aleister Crowley, Snow, I don't even know where to start with all that. I do it because they're my family! They don't want to hear about vampires and boyfriends and whatever else at dinner. They don't even want the children to know, and that's _fine_! I don't want them to know either! How would you feel, knowing that your brother could kill you in your sleep? Besides, what if they _told_ someone?"

"I didn't think -"

"You never do. Do you understand what the consequences could be, for me, if anyone knew? You saw what happened to Nicodemus. Is that what you want, for me?"

"Baz -"

"And us! Of course I want to tell them about us! I want - " I choke. I take a moment to compose myself.

"I tried to tell my father, once. Years ago. He wanted me to find a girlfriend at Watford. He - I think he just pretended not to hear me. I think it bothers him less that I'm dead."

**Simon**

I should have kept my mouth shut. Baz has worked himself up into a lather of self-loathing. I could probably have predicted this if I'd thought it through - but, as he says, I never do.

"You're not dead, Baz."

He makes a small, dismissive movement with his hands.

"You're not." I hold his hands. They're the only part of him that is rough and calloused. "You're right, about the children, though. I should have thought."

He snorts.

"Of course I don't want the Coven to find out about you." I squeeze his hands. "But - I would like your family to find out about _us_."

Baz looks up at me. His grey eyes are the saddest I've ever seen them.

"Someday," I tell him. "Eventually."

"Someday." He sighs. "But not today, Snow. It's Christmas. I don't want us to ruin Christmas. Again."

"Does that mean I have to sleep in the spare room?"

"No." A smirk ghosts across his face and he gives me his best one-eyebrow look. "I don't want you running around in the morning with your wings out, Snow. You'll scare the servants."

"That's a relief." I stand up, pulling him up with me. I pull his hands around, behind my back, and rest my forehead against his cheek. His skin is cool.

"I'm sorry I got angry." He pulls me in tighter. "They're my family, Simon. I know you don't always agree with them, but they're important to me."

"I understand," I whisper, and kiss him.

**Baz**

I will never get tired of Simon Snow's kisses. 

Crowley, he's good at it. 

He's tugging at my jacket. 

He's taken off my jacket.

"Snow." I pull away, just a little. "Just give me a minute. I have to feed."


	5. Cursed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz and Simon are interrupted in the library

**Simon**

Christmas morning with Baz's family is surprisingly fun. Mordelia rolls her eyes when she sees the fat stocking left out for her, but she opens her presents enthusiastically just the same. Baz picked out gifts for me to give his family before we came - a leather-bound notebook for his father and a basket of expensive bathroom things for his stepmother. I thought they were pretty boring presents, but Baz's stepmother seems genuinely pleased and his father gives me a slightly terrifying smile. They give me a pair of nicely tailored shirts with reinforced wing-holes in the back. I guess Baz did the Christmas shopping for everyone. 

"Fancy a game of billiards, Snow?" Baz grins his wickedest grin at me. He taught me how to play pool in London, and he _knows_ what the sight of his well-tailored backside bending over a pool table does to me. He's in an excellent mood. The morning must have gone well.

The billiards table is in the library, and it smells of old books and magic. It reminds me of Watford. 

"You're holding your cue wrong, Snow. Here, let me show you."

Baz comes up behind me and pressed into my back, rearranging the cue in my hand. He bends forward, pressing me into the table. A thrill runs up my back and I think about reaching behind me to grab him, but he holds my arms tight.

"Use your other hand to guide it," he murmurs. His voice tickles my ear. He’s doing it on purpose, I know.

The library door swings open.

"Are you teaching Simon to play Billiards? Can I play too?"

Mordelia is standing in the doorway. 

Fuck.

**Baz**

Fuck. I thought we’d be safe in the library at this time of the morning.

“You’re not tall enough yet,” I tell her. “I’ll teach you to play in a few years when you can reach the table properly.”

Mordelia pouts.

“Can I watch, then?”

“It’s pretty boring if you’re not playing.”

“Everything’s boring!” she flops melodramatically into one of the wingback chairs. “The twins are too little to play with me and you think you’re too big. I’m _bored_. This is _boring_.”

“Did you get anything fun for Christmas?” I ask helplessly. “I thought I saw some books in there.”

“Just boring stuff. All the fun books are in here.”

Aleister Crowley. I’m not going to be able to make her leave. Aunt Fiona was right.

“Fine,” I sigh. “Just, be careful with the books. Don’t read them aloud.”

“So,” says Snow, grinning. “Can you play pool on a billiards table?”

**Simon**

I don’t really mind that Mordelia interrupted us. It’s kind of nice, seeing this side of Baz. Also I was pretty terrified of his father walking in. Baz is a lot more patient with Mordelia than I’ve ever seen him be with anyone. He’s definitely not this patient with me. Even now that he’s my boyfriend.

Baz is in the middle of trying to explain how a Winning Hazard works when we hear a soft murmuring coming from the depths of one of the wingback chairs.

“Mordelia!” he shouts. She has a thick leather-bound book (the complete plays of Oscar Wilde) (all the books are thick and leather-bound) and is quietly reading aloud to herself.

“Mordelia, don’t –”

“The truth is **rarely plain, and never simple** ,” she says.

I feel a cool breeze sweep over me with a smell like a forest after a fire. It takes me a minute to realise it’s the feel of Mordelia’s magic.

Baz is staring at her, with a horrified look on his face.

Mordelia looks terrified.

“Well, this should be interesting.”

Baz’s Aunt Fiona folds her arms and leans on the door frame. She doesn’t look horrified, or scared. She looks distinctly amused.


	6. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fiona explains the curse.

**Simon**

“Mordelia.” Baz's voice eerily calm. “What did you just cast?”

Mordelia still looks terrified.

“I didn’t mean to, Basil! I didn’t know it was a spell! I just wanted to practice my pronunciation and suddenly there was magic, and I didn’t mean to cast anything, and maybe it’s not a real spell? You look fine!”

“Oh, it’s a real spell.” Fiona is still leaning in the doorway with her arms folded. We all wait for her to explain. Baz raises his eyebrow.

Fiona sighs, unfolds herself and steps into the room.

“It’s a truth spell. More of a curse, really. It means that you’ll be rather inclined to reveal any _truths_ you’ve been keeping hidden.”

Fuck.

In less than an hour, Baz and I will be having Christmas dinner with his family, pretending not to be a gay vampire and his winged boyfriend, and we’ve just been hit with a truth spell.

Jesus fucking Christ.

**Baz**

Aleister fucking Crowley.

“Mordelia,” I growl, “leave the room. Now.”

“But Basil –”

“ _Now_.”

She flees, sobbing.

“Fiona.” I try to keep the desperation out of my voice. “In less than an hour, Simon – you remember Simon Snow, my boyfriend, wings and tail, accidentally sucked the magic out of half of Britain – Simon and I are supposed to be having a nice Christmas dinner with my very conservative family. A nice Christmas dinner where I’m not a vampire and Snow and I didn’t have incredible sex in my – oh, _Crowley_.”

I didn’t mean to say that.

“Don’t stop there.” Fiona is clearly amused.

“This is a nightmare!”

“That depends on how you look at it,” she says. I could strangle her. “It might be good for you to air a few of your secrets.”

“It will ruin Christmas. My father will never forgive me.”

“Your father will forgive you.” Fiona grins, wickedly.

“Eventually.” She turns to leave.

“Fiona, please! How do we break it?”

She looks back over her shoulder. She shrugs at me.

“I have no idea, Basil.”

She disappears.

**Simon**

Well, Baz’s Aunt was a great help.

“Well, your Aunt was a great help,” I tell him.

Baz glares at me.

“Snow, do you have any concept of how bad this is?”

“Of course I do. But I’m not sure there’s anything we can do about it. If your Aunt didn’t know how to break it, how are we going to figure it out in an hour?”

Baz opens his mouth to say something cutting, but instead he says, “You’re right – but we have to try!”

He looks surprised. I know that’s not what he meant to say. Maybe this truth spell isn’t so bad.

“Maybe this truth spell isn’t so bad.”

“Why, because I can’t be rude to you? You like it when I’m rude to you.”

“Sometimes. Ok, most of the time. But sometimes you’re just a prat.”

He looks hurt. Does the curse extend to faces? Or does he just know that I mean it?

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“No, you’re right.” Baz’s voice is small. He shakes his head and pulls himself together.

“ ** _Fine tooth comb – truth spell_**!”

At least a dozen books come flying off the shelves at us. Every single one of them is thick, dusty and looks like it should be handled with special gloves.

“Do we need special gloves to touch these?”

All right. The truth spell is bloody annoying.

“Probably, but there’s no time now. You take that pile and start looking for a cure.”

“Baz?”

“Snow?”

“I just want you to know – I’m sorry. In advance. For anything I might tell your father.”

Baz nods, tightly.

“Me too.”

“You’re apologising to me for things you might say to your father?”

“For things I might say, at all.”

I frown.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean – I don’t like talking about how I _feel_ , Snow. I don’t say half the things that go on in my head. They’re not for sharing. I’m absolutely furious with Mordelia. It’s not just dinner. This is – it’s like a violation. My private thoughts have always been private. Crowley, I was in love with you for eight years before you figured it out. Also, it’s dangerous. If anyone finds out I’m a vampire –” curse or not, he don’t need to finish that sentence out loud.

“But, why are you sorry? Do you think mean things about me? Do you still secretly hate me?”

He shakes his head at me.

“I still sometimes think you’re a moron, like right now, but no. I love you. You know that. But I don’t go around saying it all over the place, and I don’t think you’d want me to.”

“Actually, I –” I clear my throat. “I like it. When you’re soft with me. I mean, I like it when you’re cool, too, and you can be really fucking cool. But I don’t mind if you get a bit soppy. It’s kind of nice.”

Baz shakes his head again, but he's smiling.

“All right. That doesn’t help us with dinner, though. Start reading.”


	7. A talk before dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz asks Fiona for help

**Baz**

There’s ten minutes left before dinner, and nothing we have found has been of any use.

“I’m going to talk to Fiona. She knew the spell, she must have some idea of how to break it.”

Simon nods at me, frowning at the book he’s looking through.

“I’ll come back to take you to dinner,” I tell him. I hope I’ll come back and break the curse, first.

Fiona’s in one of the small sitting rooms, playing with her phone. I knock at the open door and she smirks at me.

“I told you, I don’t know how to break it.”

“Please.” I swallow. I will _not_ cry like a child, however desperate I feel.

“Please, Fiona, you can’t let us go to dinner like this. What if the children find out what I am?”

“What are you, Basil?” she asks.

“Is that a philosophical question?”

She smiles. It's infuriating. “A bit. I mean it, though.”

“I’m a fucking vampire, Fiona. A queer vampire. Which I’m sure is exactly what my father hoped for me when I was born.”

**Fiona**

The self-loathing is strong in this one. I'm not going to tell him but I've been googling the curse, looking for an answer. I haven't found anything, but I don't know if I'd tell him yet even if I had. This Christmas dinner may be awkward as hell, but I have a feeling it's exactly what is needed right now.

“Basil, you’re their son. Their brother. You were top of your class at Watford and from what your father tells me, you’re doing a good job of distinguishing yourself at LSE, too. You’re the world’s most socially responsible vampire and, ok, you have terrible taste in men, but no one’s perfect. Whatever happens at dinner is not going to change that.”

Baz shakes his head.

“Maybe when I’m not cursed.” He sounds defeated.

“Baz.” I put my hand under his chin like he’s a child, and make him look at me. “I know it’s all you can think about right now, and that means it’s probably what you’ll say at dinner. It will be uncomfortable. It might even be unpleasant. But it won’t be the end of the world.”

He looks up at me with those grey eyes and I've never seen him look so vulnerable. Not for the first time I feel out of my depth. He needs his mother. I need his mother.

“Basil, you’re my sister’s only son. My flesh and blood. I wouldn’t let anything truly terrible happen to you if I could prevent it. I promise you, _it will be ok_.”

He doesn’t believe me.


	8. A Very Grimm Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz faces Christmas lunch with his family and the curse.

**Baz**

“Anything?”

Simon shakes his head.

I take a moment to centre myself.

“All right, then. Let’s get this over with.”

**Simon**

Lunch is every bit as fancy as last night’s dinner. Baz’s father pours us wine and I gulp mine down. I’m not afraid of getting drunk and saying things I shouldn’t, because I’m probably going to say them anyway.

“I’m probably going to say a heap of stuff that I shouldn’t!” I blurt out, and everyone turns to stare at me.

Fiona covers her mouth with her napkin and starts shaking with silent laughter. Mordelia turns bright red. Baz closes his eyes. I think he’s counting to ten. Mrs Grimm opens her mouth and then closes it again. Baz’s father just stares at me.

“I see, Mr Snow,” he says after a very long pause. “Is there a reason for that?”

I open my mouth to tell him about the curse but nothing comes out. I look over at Baz in surprise and see that he is trying to say something too. I guess part of the curse is that you can’t tell anyone about it.

Mordelia says nothing. Fiona looks at the two of us in surprise.

“Baz and Simon have an affliction, Malcolm,” she says, like it’s the most boring thing in the world. “They’re compelled to say whatever is on their minds.”

**Baz**

So we can’t tell anyone about the curse. That’s both fascinating and horrifying. Thank Merlin for Fiona.

“ _How_ ,” father asks, “did Basil and Simon come to be … afflicted?”

Mordelia squeaks. She’s bright red and trying to sink under the table. She’s terrible at hiding what she’s thinking even without the curse.

Father doesn’t have to say anything. He just fixes her with his most terrifying glare.

“I’m sorry, Father! I was in the library and Baz was teaching Simon to play billiards but he said I was too short and I was bored so I started reading one of the books and I never meant! It wasn’t supposed to be a spell! I just wanted to practice reading aloud!”

Father closes his eyes.

“We will discuss this later, Mordelia.”

“I was annoyed, Father!” I can hear the words coming out of my mouth and I desperately try to pull them back in. “I was trying to seduce Simon and she interrupted us.”

Simon and my stepmother choke on their water in unison. Father slaps his hand down on the table.

“Basilton!”

“He can’t help it, Malcolm,” says Fiona calmly. 

“You’re not helping, Fiona!” Father snaps. He turns on me.

“You could have helped it if you hadn’t been acting inappropriately in the first place!”

“I thought we’d be safe in the library, first thing in the morning!” Aleister Crowley, this is all going to hell. “This is why we didn’t come to Christmas last year! I didn’t want to spend the holidays sneaking around like a naughty schoolboy, or worse, leave Simon alone to spend Christmas by himself!”

“Simon would have been welcome,” Father says. “As your friend.”

“But Simon’s _not_ just my friend! I shout. Fiona smirks. Simon looks embarrassed. My stepmother looks horrified, her gaze bouncing between my Father and me like we’re a tennis match. “Simon’s my _boyfriend_. He’s been my boyfriend for _two years_ and will probably be for the rest of my life!”

“Really?” says Simon. He gives me a small smile. I smile back.

“For what it’s worth, I offered to just stay home,” says Simon, and I stop smiling at him.

Father frowns at him. He seems to be lost for words.

“But really,” Simon goes on, “Baz is right. I am his boyfriend. And I don’t like pretending not to be. He’s only sneaking around because he doesn’t want to upset you, because for some reason he cares about what you think even though you apparently can’t just take him for who he is. You should be proud of him! _I’m_ proud of him.”

Simon Snow is defending me to my parents. Simon Snow is proud of me. Somewhere under the blinding mortification, my heart wells up with gratitude.

 Simon goes on. “He’s funny and clever and brave and the best-looking vampire I’ve ever seen.”

“Vampire?” Mordelia stops pretending not to exist. Now she’s all ears. This is exactly what I was most afraid of.

“I’m sorry, Baz!” Simon looks panicked.

“That’s enough, Mr Snow!” thunders Father, but it’s not enough to stop the curse.

“Yes, vampire!” I shout, looking desperately around for something to gag myself with. “I’m gay and I’m a vampire and Simon is ok with that, and I’ve been desperately in love with his stupid face for half my life and I don’t think I’m going to stop now!”

“Is that why you never eat in front of us? Do you even eat at all? Have you ever bitten anyone?” Mordelia is all annoying questions. I can feel the heat radiating off Father from here. He's bright red and trembling. He stands up and points his wand at Mordelia.

“ ** _Ix-nay on the ampire-vay!_** ”

It's a pretty serious spell, but so are the consequences of Mordelia telling anyone what she's just learned. Father sits back down, breathing hard.

For a moment, no one speaks. Fiona lifts the lid off a silver platter.

“Roast goose, anyone?”

The rest of the meal is quick, and silent.


	9. An interview in the stables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz needs a cigarette.

**Baz**

That was objectively the worst Christmas dinner I’ve ever had the misfortune to attend.

To be fair, it’s not the worst _Christmas_. That would be an even split between the first Christmas after my mother died, and the Christmas where Simon sucked all the magic out of Hampshire.

At least it wasn’t Snow’s fault. That’s a small comfort. Father will forgive Mordelia much more quickly than he would have forgiven Simon.

Although, he still may never forgive Simon.

After lunch, Simon went to my room to try and get hold of Bunce. I told him I’d be there in a minute. After the dinner debacle I need a minute to myself.

I’ve almost given up smoking – Snow is terrified that I’ll catch fire – but I’d brought a packet with me for the holidays. I’d a feeling I would need them.

“Don’t smoke, Basil. You’re flammable.”

My father casts a long shadow from the entrance to the stables.

I blow out a long, slow cloud.

“What are you doing here, father?”

He frowns.

“Looking for you. I was concerned.”

I raise my eyebrows.

“Concerned about me? I just ruined Christmas.”

He smiled ruefully.

“None of that was your fault, Basil. Mordelia knows she’s not to read aloud from the books in the library.”

“If I hadn’t brought Snow, though.”

Father sighs, and sits down next to me. He takes my cigarette and I think he’s going to put it out, but he surprises me by taking a long drag.

“You have a right to bring Simon.” He says at last, coughing slightly.

I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything.

“I can’t pretend I’m not disappointed, Basil, although I know I’m not supposed to be. But I’m not disappointed in _you_.”

He takes another drag from my cigarette. I don’t think I’m getting it back.

“Your mother and I are very proud of you, Basil. You do us great credit. If Simon Snow is what makes you happy, then –” he shrugs.

I’ve never seen my father shrug. I didn’t think he knew how.

“Thank you, Father.” There are so many things I want to say to him, and I’m not sure where to begin.

“It means a lot to me – to have Simon here. He’s – he takes me as I am. It’s important.”

He nods.

“Simon will always be welcome here, Basil.” He stubs out the cigarette.

“What will you do about Mordelia? Knowing?”

“What more should I do? She can’t tell anyone, Basil. When she’s older I may explain it to her. Although I’d consider having a word with Simon.”

“He’s very careful, Father, I promise. If he hadn’t said it at dinner then I would have. As soon as Mordelia cursed us I knew it would come out.”

Father nods, carefully, and stands up.

“What does Snow think about you smoking?”

“It terrifies him. He hates it.”

“Good man.”

Father straightens up and strides out. I sit on the hard stable bench for a moment, unsure of what has just happened. I _think_ , perhaps, that every think just might be all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points to anyone who noticed the clue in this chapter to breaking the curse! Thanks for the lovely comments, everyone - nearly there now!


	10. A talk after dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fiona has some things to say to Simon.

**Simon**

I’ve got to call Penny. It’s still my default move for when the shit is heading toward the fan. I’m digging through my bag, looking for my mobile when Baz’s Aunt strides in without bothering to knock.

“Sit down, Simon Snow,” she commands.

I sit.

“It occurs to me that we haven’t had a proper chat, you and me,” she says menacingly. I’m not really sure how I’m supposed to respond to that, but she doesn’t seem to need one. I guess this is a one-way chat.

“That was nice, what you said. About Basil.”

She pulls a joint out of her pocket and sticks it in her mouth, lighting it with her wand. She takes a deep drag.

“He deserves someone who understands how special he is,” she says, holding the smoke in her lungs. She exhales a pungent stream. Baz is not going to be happy.

“Of course I understand,” I protest. I’ve known him for ten years. I lived with him for eight of them.”

“You hated him for most of them,” she corrects me.

“I thought he hated me. It seemed like a rational response. I like this arrangement better.”

She grins.

“So does he.”

She takes another drag and eyes me speculatively.

“What I’m saying, Simon Snow, is this. _Don’t fuck this up_.”

“I’m not going –”

“Don’t fuck this up, or I will come after you, and I will feed you to the numpties.”

“I’m not planning to fuck it up!” I protest.

“Good!” she says brightly, as if she hadn’t just threatened me with bodily harm.

“What’s good?” Baz is standing in the doorway. He wrinkles his nose. “Fiona, take your disgusting habits somewhere else.”

Fiona grins at him and flounces out.

“He’s all right,” she says to him.

He nods.

“I know.”


	11. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A phone call to Penny saves the day

**Simon**

“Have you called Bunce?” Baz strides into the room, looking more like his usual self.

“I can’t find my phone.”

“Use mine.” Baz sits next to me on the bed. He smells of smoke.

“Baz! Are you on fire?”

He gives me that look, like I’m a small child and he’s being very patient.

“No, Snow. I’m not on fire. You’d know if I was.”

“But you’ve been smoking.”

“Wouldn’t you? That dinner was a nightmare.”

“I hate it when you smoke,” I tell him.

“I know.” He kisses me on the forehead, and rests his head on my shoulder. “Now call Bunce.”

Baz only has four numbers in his phone: me, Penny, his father, and his Aunt. I select ‘Bunce’ from the short list and Penny picks up almost immediately. I put the call on video.

“Merry Christmas, Simon! Merry Christmas, Baz!” Penny waves at us through the phone. “How’s your Christmas going?”

“Penny, it’s an emergency,” I tell her. “We need you here.”

She looks alarmed.

“I’m six hours’ drive away,” she says, “and I’ve had half a bottle of wine. What’s happening?”

“We’ve been cursed,” I tell her. “Mordelia cursed us and Baz told her he was a vampire and he told his father that he’d tried to seduce me in the library and there was a huge fight over Christmas lunch and we can’t figure out how to break it!”

Penny disappears. I think she’s dropped the phone. When she picks it up, she’s laughing.

“That’s not an emergency, Simon,” she says. “I’ll do some research here. What was the spell?”

Penny is laughing so hard she’s shaking the bed.

That doesn’t make any sense. Penny can’t shake the bed, she’s in Houndslow.

Baz is sitting next to me, rocking back and forth with silent laughter.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“I’ll tell you in a minute,” he says. “Tell Penny what the spell was. I don’t want to say it in case I cast it again by accident.”

“Mordelia said something about the truth being plain and simple.”

“Rarely plain and never simple?” asks Penny.

“That’s the one.”

“That’s a nasty one,” she says. “The only way to break it is to reveal a great secret. But – Simon, you shouldn’t have been able to tell me about it. That curse prevents you from telling people.”

I blink at her, confused.

“That’s what’s funny,” says Baz. I’m still confused.

“What’s funny?”

“The curse is _already broken_ , Snow. You wouldn’t have been able to tell Bunce about it otherwise. We must have broken it at dinner.”

“No emergency, then?” Penny asks happily.

“I guess not,” I tell her. “Merry Christmas, Penny!”

“Merry Christmas, Simon. I’ll see you at home tomorrow.”

I hang up, and turn to Baz.

“So we broke the curse at dinner.”

“I’m fairly certain _I_ broke the curse at dinner,” he says. “Something about being a gay vampire should have done it.”

I blink at him.

“It was really that easy?”

“Easy? That was the worst Christmas dinner I’ve ever sat through.”

**Baz**

I’m giddy with relief. I don’t have to be terrified of running into my father and telling him something I shouldn’t. Although it occurs to me that if the curse was broken at dinner, I was suspiciously open with him in our conversation in the stables. If I wasn’t cursed – that must be what it’s like to have a completely honest conversation with my father.

“Baz?” Simon nudges me gently. “You’ve gone quiet.”

“I’m thinking, Snow. You should try it sometime.”

He sighs, so I put my arms around him.

“I had a talk with my father,” I tell him.

“Oh?”

“I think everything will be all right.”

I kiss the mole on his cheek, and the one on his chin, and the one on his throat. He shudders and arches his neck. I straddle his lap and kiss his mouth, pushing him backwards onto the bed.

“Everything will be all right,” I say again.


	12. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home again.

The other family

**Simon**

Penny is howling with laughter. Baz has his arms and legs crossed and a displeased expression on his face, but one corner of his mouth is twitching.

“And then Mordelia was asking all these questions about Baz and I thought we were done for, but then Mr Grimm cast **ixnay** and she shut right up.”

“Nicks and Slick!”

“He’ll lift it when she’s older,” Baz jumps in. “She’s too much of a liability right now.”

Penny nods.

“It sounds like a nightmare.”

“It was a nightmare.” Baz shudders melodramatically, but then he smiles at me.

“Fiona was right, though.”

“About what?”

“She said it was for the best. Now at least I don’t have to pretend that Simon’s not my boyfriend – although I still don’t think they’ll want to talk about it. At least he’ll be invited for Christmas.”

That feels nice. I guess. If I was going to choose a family, it wouldn’t be Baz’s. But that’s the thing about family, isn’t it? You don’t get to choose. You’re stuck with whoever you’ve got.

This is my real family. Baz, Penny and me in a fourth floor flat in London, eating leftover turkey and watching Doctor Who. This is the family I chose.

**Baz**

After three days of keeping his wings tucked in, Simon has spread them out and they keep knocking into things. Mostly me. I huff at him, but I don’t really mind. It’s such a relief to be back in London, not having to pretend.

I briefly touched Simon on the shoulder at breakfast this morning, to ask him to pour me some water, and my father flinched a little. I don’t mind. It will take him a long time to get used to the idea of us – I can wait.

It is nice, though, to be able to lie down and put my head in Simon’s lap, and feel him bunch his fingers in my hair. Bunce usually ignores anything she classifies as flirting, but I did catch her smiling once when Simon fell asleep in my lap.

It’s peaceful here, not having to care what anyone thinks or says. I love my family, and they will always be important to me – but I have a family here, too, of sorts.

The turkey makes me sleepy, and Simon’s fingers in my hair make my scalp tingle. I close my eyes lazily.

“Baz?” whispers Simon. I open my eyes. Bunce has disappeared.

“Mm?”

“You promised to make it up to me.”

“I promised to make what up to you?”

“If I came to your family Christmas, and pretended not to be your boyfriend. You promised you’d make it up to me.”

I let my arm fall off the couch. It grazes his ankle.

“So I did, Snow,” I murmur. I brush my fingers softly across his ankle and down his foot. He shivers.

“Now, what exactly did you have in mind?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all for the moment, folks! Thanks for reading and commenting! I'm not sure what I'm going to write next but I can take requests, so if there's any SnowBaz you particularly want to see, let me know and I'll see what I can do :)


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